Leaving His Marc
Jacobs closes a wild week of London parties
SCOOP
PHOTOS
Naomi Campbell, at San Lorenzo.
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Marc Jacobs and Selma Blair, at the Connaught.
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The raucous spirit of one-nighter Boombox is so infectious in this city at the moment that its mention in connection with anything during fashion week was enough to galvanize a turnout. Vide
Jonathan Saunders'
post-show party in a soulless East End rectangle of a nitery. The disco boom of the 'Box had partygoers hopping like frogs on a hot plate.
Truth be told, though, the following night's bash to celebrate Pop magazine's 15th issue was more blogworthy, thanks in large part to the visually striking MySpace club-kid contingent ('Box babies all) that Pop saluted in the issue. Happily for them, the Kentish Town studio where the party took place was so glaringly illuminated that their looks were virtually strobe-lit. The shadows of the adjoining dance cavern were a little kinder to those disinclined to show off.
Pop cover girl Agyness Deyn was elated by her spot on the decks, which came about during a set by the MisShapes. They were followed by a good number of the guests, a turn of events that only went to show some things are best left to professionals. 'Box DJ superstar Hazel Robinson did her best to compensate when she played with some help from Giles Deacon, fresh from his own show.
Across town, Mariah Carey and her new promotional gig with Italian company Pinko were being hailed by Vogue Italia at San Lorenzo. The diva was in danger of being eclipsed, though, by the guest seated next to her, Naomi Campbell. With the London tabloids writhing on the horns of the size 0 debate, it was La Campbell who flew the flag for gorgeous womanhood throughout the week. She looked particularly ravishing in a flapper style at Marc Jacobs' show in the ballroom of Claridge's Hotel. Who knows, she may even have been at the party at the Connaught afterward to celebrate the opening of his London store, but it was a typical Jacobs affair in that you lost your dates in the first five minutes amid the vast throngs and never saw them again. Claridge's and the Connaught—this is where one happy-face sweater has carried Marc in 25 years. No wonder he was pinching himself.
Sofia, Zoe, Selma, and Kimberly showed up to support Jacobs in his moment of triumph—so did several hundred thousand Londoners who filled the august halls and salons of the Connaught in the kind of riot that would once have had the staff decorously calling for the strictest security. But the hotel is about to close for a David Collins-directed reno, so this was a teardown do of sorts. The American Bar, once London's most discreet drinking nook, quivered to rock 'n' roll, and Alister Mackie, Bobby Gillespie, and Dan Macmillan quivered right along. Actually, in its retro-ness, it was kind of an anti-'Box moment.
Truth be told, though, the following night's bash to celebrate Pop magazine's 15th issue was more blogworthy, thanks in large part to the visually striking MySpace club-kid contingent ('Box babies all) that Pop saluted in the issue. Happily for them, the Kentish Town studio where the party took place was so glaringly illuminated that their looks were virtually strobe-lit. The shadows of the adjoining dance cavern were a little kinder to those disinclined to show off.
Pop cover girl Agyness Deyn was elated by her spot on the decks, which came about during a set by the MisShapes. They were followed by a good number of the guests, a turn of events that only went to show some things are best left to professionals. 'Box DJ superstar Hazel Robinson did her best to compensate when she played with some help from Giles Deacon, fresh from his own show.
Across town, Mariah Carey and her new promotional gig with Italian company Pinko were being hailed by Vogue Italia at San Lorenzo. The diva was in danger of being eclipsed, though, by the guest seated next to her, Naomi Campbell. With the London tabloids writhing on the horns of the size 0 debate, it was La Campbell who flew the flag for gorgeous womanhood throughout the week. She looked particularly ravishing in a flapper style at Marc Jacobs' show in the ballroom of Claridge's Hotel. Who knows, she may even have been at the party at the Connaught afterward to celebrate the opening of his London store, but it was a typical Jacobs affair in that you lost your dates in the first five minutes amid the vast throngs and never saw them again. Claridge's and the Connaught—this is where one happy-face sweater has carried Marc in 25 years. No wonder he was pinching himself.
Sofia, Zoe, Selma, and Kimberly showed up to support Jacobs in his moment of triumph—so did several hundred thousand Londoners who filled the august halls and salons of the Connaught in the kind of riot that would once have had the staff decorously calling for the strictest security. But the hotel is about to close for a David Collins-directed reno, so this was a teardown do of sorts. The American Bar, once London's most discreet drinking nook, quivered to rock 'n' roll, and Alister Mackie, Bobby Gillespie, and Dan Macmillan quivered right along. Actually, in its retro-ness, it was kind of an anti-'Box moment.
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